Crazy Like a Fox

Chapter 4

Jekyll finally turned around and walked away. As he passed by the table with large strides, he picked up something and threw it toward Lisbelle.

“Here, take this. Looks like it was left by one of your maids.”

Lisbelle was puzzled.

“I don’t know who it was, but they seem like a loyal maid.”

Blankly, Lisbelle looked down at the small, flat jar that grazed her skirt as it fell—an ointment jar. Even after Jekyll disappeared from outside the door, Lisbelle couldn’t let her guard down. She stared at the small jar rolling on the floor, her blue eyes filled with suspicion.

There wasn’t a single maid who sincerely cared for the princess, given that she was Valdimar’s disgrace and someone who might die at any moment. Even the nanny, who had practically raised her, began to despise Lisbelle after she started showing signs of madness. Lisbelle reached out and fiddled with the small jar of ointment. It had certainly not been there just moments ago when she entered the room.

Then, who brought this ointment?

The question remained unanswered for a long time. Since Lisbelle couldn’t use the ointment left behind by someone whose identity she didn’t even know, she decided to keep it in the drawer for now. Her thoughts quickly shifted elsewhere. What Jekyll had said was definitely not something to be easily dismissed.

“This time, many important people from the empire will be coming here as a delegation.”

A delegation is coming from the empire. Additionally, the leader of the delegation is said to be the emperor’s right-hand man, Duke Narnak.

After hearing the news from Jekyll, Lisbelle spent the following day wandering the castle, quietly gathering tidbits of information about the delegation. It was crucial to prevent rumors about the princess’s interest in state affairs from starting, so she had no choice but to collect whatever fragments of information she could obtain.

Strangely enough, the main topic of conversation among the people of the royal castle was not about the leader of the delegation, Duke Narnak.

“That person was on the delegation list. The head of Rattaeh’s Magic Tower.”

“I heard. That’s why His Majesty was greatly unsettled about this whole thing.”

“It makes sense. Goodness, to see a magician, and that the master of the empire’s Magic Tower… It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Although I cannot fathom why such a great person as him is coming to this magical wasteland.”

Magician. Lisbelle mulled over the word with an unfamiliar feeling.

Valdimar was a nation of warriors who followed the goddess Hellare. There were no magic towers, nor did the country train magicians. Most people who showed any magical talents in Valdimar were usually sent to Rattaeh. The Magic Tower of Rattaeh was a sacred magical place coveted by all the magicians on the continent, not just those in Valdimar. The fact that its leader was coming was significant.

How fascinating. However, Lisbelle’s thoughts soon drifted in a different direction.

Duke Narnak and the master of the Magic Tower—two highly influential figures were coming to Valdimar. The purpose of the delegation was clear. Once every ten years, they would come to solidify the alliance agreement and monitor Valdimar, which was no different from a vassal state.

It was clear that during their stay, all attention would be focused on them. No matter how ruthless the king and prince might be, they wouldn’t consider shedding blood in the royal castle during that time. There was nothing to gain from provoking anyone from Rattaeh. Therefore, the succession ceremony for Valdimar’s throne would be put on hold. It was a kind of implicit ceasefire period that occurred once a decade.

Would this be a crisis or an opportunity for her? No matter how much she thought about it, it appeared to be the latter. In that case...

Lisbelle was hiding behind a pillar, thinking quickly when a casually lowered voice suddenly enveloped her from behind.

“What are you doing here?”

She was so startled that she nearly fainted and quickly hid behind the other side of the pillar. Her heart pounded violently, as if it might leap from her throat. She recognized that slow, quiet voice. But she couldn’t afford to stay surprised for long.

With a broad smile, Lisbelle peeked her head out from behind the pillar.

“Oh, Rogers!”

His blond hair was a shade lighter than hers, and his eyes were deep blue. However, among her siblings, Rodges, the second prince, whose hair color most closely resembled hers, was staring at her as he stood.

He was dressed in a snug black training uniform, likely because he had stopped by the military training grounds on his way. His thick arm muscles were visible under the sleeveless shirt, fitting so snugly that it seemed not even a single thread could be slipped under the hem. He wasn’t as massive as Jekyll, but Rodges was also a born warrior. While Jekyll was like a giant lion, Rodges was more like a sleek leopard.

Despite knowing his habit of resting his hand on the sword handle at his waist, Lisbelle still felt shivers go down her spine at the sight of it.

Lisbelle grumbled, her lips forming a pout, “I hate you. You scared me.”

He always approached from behind, Rodges Valdimar did.

It had been just a few months since Lisbelle’s second brother had slit the fifth prince’s throat from behind—so violently, in fact, that the head of the fifth prince, who always taunted and ridiculed her like a weasel, had rolled right up to her feet. The expression on Rodges’ face, covered in blood that had gushed out from his brother’s severed neck, was not much different from now.

In one sense, his eyes seemed empty, yet in another, they appeared densely filled, giving them a hard, stony look, almost like a mineral. Rodges killed the third princess and fifth prince with that indifferent face of his.

If Jekyll was the type to unleash his volatile temperament everywhere, Rodges was the type to not bat an eye no matter what happened right before him. But strangely enough, he was also the elder brother who showed not a hint of interest in Lisbelle.

Well, it must be disdain. It must be quite unpleasant to deal with a sister like Lisbelle, who was like a thorn in the side, constantly embarrassing Valdimar.

His blue eyes, a shade darker than Lisbelle’s, stared directly at her. He asked quietly, “I asked what you are doing here.”

“Is there anywhere I can’t be?” Lisbelle replied, her eyes wide open. “This is my home.”

Rodges didn’t answer.

If there was one thing that the three out of the ten surviving members of the Valdimar royal family in this generation had in common, it was their incredibly quick wit. It was only natural, as surviving among ambitious siblings required constantly using all one’s wits to scrutinize and read every situation—a necessary skill to stay alive.

Rodges’s perceptiveness in facing Jekyll head-on was quicker than Lisbelle’s but never slower.

“Eavesdropping isn’t a good habit,” he said.

Lisbelle’s ability to react almost instinctively to Rodges’s words stemmed from her frighteningly sharp reflexes. Clutching the pillar, she innocently repeated, “Is there something I’m not supposed to hear?”

He didn’t answer her.

“This is my home.”

Rodges scanned her from head to toe.

His deep blue gaze was sometimes harder to endure than Jekyll’s openly hostile stare. Lisbelle could read almost nothing from his insensitive and opaque eyes. Since they couldn’t understand him at all, most of her siblings had disliked Rodges.

His blue gaze briefly lingered on the hem of Lisbelle’s white dress and feet before looking away.

“Father will summon you tonight.”

Father? Lisbelle’s eyes widened like a rabbit’s. It likely meant that Father intended to summon the remaining three royal family members for dinner. She smiled broadly.

“He must have liked my dance. I’m glad I made Father happy.”

“Well, will it really be for a good reason?”

It’s strange. Rodges has been unusually talkative today.

He walked away, passing by Lisbelle’s side. “That wasn’t a good choice, sister. You better be careful.”

If it weren’t for those last words, she could have just dismissed it as Rodges’ inexplicable eccentricity. She was taken aback. It was strange to caution an insane person to be careful. Even if Lisbelle were not a madwoman but rather normal, it would still be strange to caution her to be careful, knowing she could aim for his heart anytime, anywhere.

Even after Rodges’ figure disappeared somewhere in the castle, Lisbelle stood still in her place, hugging the pillar. Then, suddenly, she burst into laughter.

“Ah... Hahaha.”

Her delicate fingernails scratched the sturdy pillar. The sight of Lisbelle, embracing the pillar in the heart of the castle and bursting into laughter, was more unsettling than anything else. The passing maids glanced at her, their eyes filled with terror.

“There she goes again.”

“She’ll probably have another seizure if she keeps acting like that.”

“She’s risking her own life.”

Lisbelle overheard all the conversations swirling behind her. Then, she erupted into laughter so intense her eyes rolled back.

“Hahaha...”

Unable to cry, she could only laugh. Nausea churned in her stomach, despite having eaten nothing, and she felt the urge to vomit bile. Even as she laughed, despair gnawed at her brain, spreading like venom, slowly proliferating, paralyzing cells, and eroding reason.

Lisbelle knew it instinctively.

Rodges knew the truth.